Diminuendo
by Neige
Summary: AU, modern day. Orophin is never one to do things halfway. If he is going into the outside world, he is going to do it right. Chapter Eight: Orophin snoops, Glorfindel tells all, Elladan sings in the shower.
1. Departure

_-Note- _I will be gone and unable to update from July 23 to August 18. I can't promise you I'll be able to write during that period but if I have any spare time I'll do my best. This is a short chapter, but (time permitting) I hope to have another longer one posted tomorrow. I will not respond to reviews individually- I hear rumors of trouble concerning that little custom. If you have any questions, though, I will do my best to answer them. 

_-Disclaimer-_ All characters, etc. belong to Tolkien.

Departure

He blinked rapidly in the sunlight, waiting for his eyes to adjust from the cool dark of the forest. The summer sun baked the black asphalt so that if he looked up or down the road the landscape would ripple and wave at him. His palms were sweaty; he once more adjusted his hold on his suitcase.

He wasn't quite sure if the perspiration was because of the heat or his anxiety. Maybe it was both.

A shape appeared, glinting brightly, on the road a way down. It approached and he wondered if this was the thing he had been instructed to meet. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his face expressionless, and remembered quietly when this road had been made of dirt. When there had been no roads at all.

It was a car. He had been in them before and hadn't liked the experience at all; hurtling about in several tons of steel did not seem the safest idea to him. Especially with one of those reckless Peredhil behind the wheel.

He recognized the grin behind the wheel of this particular car (a red, sleek thing) with a pang of irony - Elrohir. He straightened his awkward, Mannish clothing and scolded himself for being so self-conscious. By now, he ought to be considered aged to perfection.

The tires skidded to a stop and it took a good bit of willpower to keep from jumping back. The window rolled down slowly, perhaps menacingly, and Elrohir's face appeared.

"Hop in, Orophin. What are you waiting for?"

Orophin sighed. It had been a long time since he had last left the confines of the wood, a _long_ time. He had always prided himself on being good with languages, having lived with Men and Elves alike, and he responded in kind.

"I…cannot believe I am doing this."

Elrohir snorted, something very unbecoming of his stature and background. But then, mused Orophin, Elladan and Elrohir had been getting to know their mannish ancestry for the better part of the last millennium.

"Where is your brother?"

"Waiting for us back home- he couldn't tear himself away from the store even for you."

"Ah." Orophin realized two things: first, that he hadn't actually entered the car yet and second, that Elrohir had called their apartment _home_. He himself had not bestowed that title on any place since he had left Lothlorien. That was in the nature of an Elf; he supposed his friends' Númenorean forefathers had passed down a sense of fleeting life, for Men called many places "home" in their short years. Men had always been the more adaptable ones.

Orophin remembered how his brothers had persuaded him to come out of his stagnant routine, with help from the twins and a little gentle pushing from Lord Celeborn, who had offered him a place in his own country house. But Orophin had never liked to do things halfway, and if he was going out into the outside world, by Oromë, he was going to do it right.

Elrohir was looking at him with raised eyebrows. There was something of Elrond in his eyes. He blinked, it disappeared. "I know," he said, "It's a lot to get used to. But Men don't bite, in spite of what Elladan and I may have told you when you were an Elfling."

"Thanks," he said quickly, gritting his teeth and moving at last. He opened the door, tossed his suitcase inside, buckled his seatbelt tightly. The engine revved to life and the woods disappeared from view too quickly for Orophin's comfort.

(tbc)

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, as I haven't done a chaptered story in quite a while and am rather nervous about doing another. : )

Orophin, if you'll remember, is the brother of Haldir and Rúmil. I don't believe Tolkien tells us who is the eldest, but I have put Oropin in the middle here.

_Diminuendo-_ to die down; fade out.


	2. Speeding

_-Note-_ This is the last chapter until after August 18. Thank you for your patience!

_-Disclaimer-_ Please see chapter 1.

Speeding

Orophin was holding on for his dear, supposedly immortal life.

"Having fun yet?" Elrohir joked as he steered the car, one-handed, around a hairpin bend. Orophin shook his head, bit his lip. Elrohir sighed. "Well, it should only be another hour or so."

Orophin groaned. "Where are we going?" he asked.

Elrohir nodded and opened the drawer above Orophin's knees. "Look in the glove box," he said, "There's got to be a map in there somewhere." Then he swore under his breath and pounced on the horn as the car behind him tried to pass. Orophin pressed himself into the seat as Elrohir's foot nearly squashed the accelerator.

"It is _not_ a race," Orophin said tersely.

"Right."

(l)

Ahhh…he felt good. Relieved. Happy to be alive.

"Orophin, get out of my car. We're here."

Alive…the keys were blessedly, mercifully, safe in Elrohir's back pocket and the car was parked. Not moving. Ah…he savored the feeling.

"Orophin!" Elladan's voice, this time. The car door opened; hands grasped his arm, pulled him out. He fought the impulse to kiss the earth, but as his feet touched the ground he realized that it was hard- not dirt. He opened his eyes. What was it called? Concrete. Yes.

He was swept into an embrace, then let go. "Mae govannen, mellon nîn," he said quickly, surveying his friend.º Elladan was wearing dark trousers and a collared shirt, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tied back with a rubbery band.

"I hope my brother's driving did not frighten you overmuch," he laughed, "but I had work to do here. Will you forgive me?"

Orophin nodded dumbly and waved the concern aside. "It was…fine."

Elrohir snorted. Elladan rolled his eyes.

"You should have seen him, muindor nîn. By looking at his face, you'd have thought I was driving like a maniac."º

"You do."

"What? I do not."

"You do."

"Do not."

"You do. Orophin, would you like to come inside?" asked Elladan smoothly, taking him by the shoulders and guiding him away from the car, which was parked at the side of what seemed to be a residential street.

"Ermm…yes?"

Houses and trees lined the road, children had scattered playthings on lawns. The twins lived in a two-storey house with a small garden in front. The modesty of the place surprised him; his friends had had many hundreds of years to acquire their fortunes, and on previous visits their residences had shown as much. But he felt the difference as he walked in the door- Elrohir had called it _home_, and it felt like one.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"Mmm…a few years, four or five. We opened the shop downtown three years ago."

"What do you sell?" inquired Orophin.

"We figured we knew enough about camping to make a job out of it again. We sell wilderness stuff. Tents, bug spray, hiking boots, things like that."

"Bug spray?" he asked curiously.

"Never mind," said Elladan.

"Want some dinner?" asked Elrohir from somewhere further inside the house.

"Dinner? Oh…if it's not too much to ask."

"Not at all."

Elladan led him into another room, one with couches and chairs. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the hiss of food on the stove and the clink of pots.

"How's the forest?" asked Elladan, at ease on his half of the couch.

"Doing well since your last visit…ten years ago?"

"Thereabouts."

"Lord Glorfindel paid a visit three years or so after yours and Lord Celeborn often comes. It's the same as usual, really." He hesitated. "Rúmil and his wife are planning to sail next summer or autumn."

"Are they?"

"Yes- better for raising children, they say. I can't fault them there. Constant hiding from Men is no way to raise a little one."

"True. Haldir? You? How are you all?"

"Fine, I think."

"Really?" Elladan was giving him one of those I-can-see-right-through-you looks, reminding Orophin of his friend's high lineage. "Are you thinking of making the trip anytime soon?"

Ah, the root of it. Yes, his brothers had wheedled him into visiting the twins, but they knew as well as he that Orophin would not be coming back to the forest.

"Yes, though I wasn't going to say anything," he said finally. "Thought I'd give this a try and then sail. In a year, maybe more."

"Oh." If Elladan had wanted to hide his disappointment, he hadn't fully succeeded; Orophin imagined that most of Elladan's friends from Imladris had gone, and he knew his family (with the notable exception of Lord Celeborn) had sailed long ago. It was why he and Elrohir were always together; there was simply no one else left. Orophin knew the feeling too, for the wood was increasingly empty.

"But you'll stay with us until then, won't you?" asked Elladan. "We could put you to work at the shop."

"And I would gladly lend a hand." He smiled, so did Elladan. Later, as all three sat down together for the meal, they laughed.

(Tbc)

Thanks for reading!

_ºMae govannen, mellon nîn- _Well met, my friend

_ºMuindor nîn- _my brother


	3. The Way of Things

  
_-Note­-_ Thanks for sticking with this! I'm back from Outward Bound and school's started, so…we'll see how often I can update this, then. There is a POV shift in the second half of the chapter. Special thanks to Indy for a little prompting! 

_-Disclaimer-_ Please see chapter 1.

The Way of Things

He didn't sleep much that first night. From his makeshift bed/couch, he could hear the night-noises of suburbia; cars rolled down the road in the small hours of the morning, the next door neighbors seemed to be nocturnal, street lights glared a harsh yellow-orange through the curtains. When at last his eyes fogged and his breathing evened out, it was close to dawn.

His dreams were jumbled and uncontrolled. Messes of images from the forest and the previous day slithered serpent-like through his mind, disorienting him. But too soon he woke to the sight of Elladan thumping one-footed around the room, pulling on a sock.

"Morning," said Elladan brightly. "Slept well, did you?"

Orophin moaned and shut his eyes.

"That well, eh?"

"Hmmmph."

"Then I'm sure you'd love to join us at work today," Elladan said sweetly.

"Only if you drive, not Elrohir."

Elrohir appeared in mock-disgruntlement. "You don't like my driving?"

"With all respect, no!" cried Orophin, getting up, stalking into the bathroom, and leaving Elladan and Elrohir laughing behind him.

(l)

Men were even stranger than he remembered, Orophin mused as he rung up a purchase at the machine- the "cash register"- the twins had taught him to use. Elladan had assured him that it wouldn't be a busy day, but as handfuls of people trickled in he felt a little overwhelmed. The harsh fluorescent lights, the mechanical-sounding _ding_ of the opening and closing door, the strange equipment he slid across his counter to the customers opposite him…

A customer arrived at his counter carrying an armful of strange items Elladan had deemed "absolutely, absolutely necessary"; yet Orophin could not recall having used any of them before. He waited for the receipt to print itself. He put the purchase in a bag emblazoned with "EL'S OUTDOOR GOODS (for the real outdoorsman)" and handed it to the paunchy, middle-aged Man.

"Where's my change?" the Man asked gruffly. Orophin was confused.

"Change?" His mind scrambled for the meaning of this word: a verb, he recalled, but the Man did not seem to be using it as such. Change, change, change…the word floated around in his head for a moment before he gave up.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Yeah, my change. Can you give it to me? Listen, my lunch hour was over ten minutes ago, so why don't you speed up a little? You know, little coins?"

"Oh," he said, his cheeks hot. He checked the receipt, popped open the register drawer, fingered his way through a mess of coins. He deposited what he believed to be the correct amount into t he Man's outstretched palm.

"Sorry, sir."

The Man grunted a "thanks" and Orophin managed a weak-sounding "have a nice day" before the door swung shut, jingling.

Elrohir wandered over, deftly navigating past racks of parkas, rain gear, and shoe boxes. Somehow, Orophin knew Elrohir had heard the exchange, and Orophin could see in Elrohir's piercing gaze that he was being pitied. Looking deliberately nonchalant and cheerful, Elrohir was whistling a Dwarvish drinking tune and carrying a white box. He scanned the store (which was now empty) and flipped a sign on the door so the "Sorry, we're closed" side faced the street.

"Lunch?" he asked, setting the box on Orophin's counter with a thud. A cooler. The box was a cooler; Elladan had told him so.

"Yes, please." He was relieved; it could not escape his tone of voice.

Elrohir led the way into the back room, nodding and continuing to whistle. Cardboard boxes lined the walls, overflowing with woolly socks and long underwear and sleeping bags and things Orophin could not identify. Elladan was already there, sipping from a tall foam cup and surrounded by a mess of papers.

"Bloody taxes," he muttered in lieu of a greeting. "I want lunch."

With a dashing flourish, Elrohir revealed the contents of the cooler: ham and cheese sandwiches, a soggy salad, and a few bottles of juice. Elladan pushed the papers away and they ate together, sheltered briefly from the outside.

(l)

Elladan hated paperwork. Hated it. Elrohir had cleverly shunted his half of the reports onto Elladan's desk with a little "I'll watch the store and look after Orophin if you do these, there's not much there." He wasn't _angry_ at his brother, just a little annoyed. Well, maybe more than a little. But that, he thought with a sigh, was the way of things, wasn't it?

Anyway, Orophin did seem to need some looking after. He had learned the ins and outs of the cash register quickly, but he had not lost the frightened deer-in-the-headlights look he had assumed since he had come to visit; Elladan knew it was only natural, but it was a little unnerving for an Elf who had once been so young-seeming.

The forest Orophin had come from had the sort of air about it that, despite the beauty of the land, reminded Elladan of a funeral. He hadn't said that to Grandfather or Lord Thranduil, of course, but he and Glorfindel agreed on the matter: as the Elves left the wood, the echoes of their existence faded more quickly than the remaining Elves could make up for. It was only, as Glorfindel had told him, a matter of time.

Oh dear, thought Elladan, time. He had plenty of time. But it had been his choice, hadn't it? He had chosen and Elrohir had chosen and Arwen had chosen, too. How wonderful and terrible, that they could choose their fates. He wished they hadn't had too, though; he wished it had been different, that his sister and his nieces and nephews were only across the sea, waiting for him. But that was the way of things, wasn't it?

He looked at the clock in the storeroom (it was a square, ceramic thing Elrohir had brougt with him from his last visit to Crete, something that didn't quite fit in amidst the drab cardboard-covered walls): quarter after five. He sighed in relief, for the day was nearly done.

"Thank the Valar," he breathed, remembering the calendar at his bedside had marked tomorrow as Sunday. Sunday, and the store would be closed. Ah, a day off…he felt a curious kinship to the common working Man. Except he and Elrohir really had no need for jobs; the passing Ages had given them quite enough time to accumulate material things. They had a lot of those sorts of objects (heirlooms from his childhood home, various collected things from his travels, gifts...), most of them in storage someplace; it was the things he couldn't see or hear or feel that seemed to fade.

That was always the way of things, he supposed.

(tbc)

Thanks for reading!


	4. Rain

_-Disclaimer-_ Please see Chapter 1.

Rain

"Serge, go away and never come back!"

"But Veronica-"

"I can't forgive you, Serge, not after seeing you with…with Patricia!"

Orophin stifled a chortle.

"I don't love your sister, I love you!"

"I found you in-"

Orophin pressed a button idly with his thumb.

"The walrus must maintain its layer of blubber throughout the harsh winter…"

_Click_.

"Veronica, I-"

_Click. Clickclickclick._

"Les enfants sont…"

_Snap_.

A blank. Orophin watched the darkened television screen with interest. What an odd contraption. He glanced to his left to see Elrohir staring, ever so amused, at him. Elrohir took a sip of his fizzy drink.

Orophin warily examined his own bubbly glass; one sip had convinced him it was a very _unnatural_ beverage, indeed. His eyes had shot wide open as he felt the miniscule fizzes bubbling in his mouth, and he had swallowed only when Elrohir had sworn on his honor that it was not poison. Of course, Elladan had laughed through it all- so hard that he had wiped away tears from the corners of his dark eyes.

Days of the week held no significance for Orophin, but Elladan and Elrohir were basking in a day of lethargy. He supposed that soon he would understand the meaning of a work week, but he had yet to be enlightened. So he spent the day lounging about idly, walking with his hands folded behind his back around the modest garden Elladan had planted, watching the thing- the _television­_, exploring the depths of the other thing- the _refrigerator_. How strange all these things were. Except for the garden; he understood that.

The telephone rang after lunch; the noise jolted Orophin out of his seat on the couch. Elladan explained hastily that it was the _telephone_, a thing that would let two people in different places have direct discussion. Elrohir picked it up, grinning at Orophin.

"Hello?"

Orophin realized he was listening to one half of a conversation.

"Hi! Fine, we're fine. How're you?"

Elrohir was speaking quickly and fluently, and Orophin was somewhat lost.

"Oh yes, he's here, finally. Want to say hello? No, he's perfectly alright... no, we've done nothing of the kind. Yes, really."

Elrohir held the black-colored telephone toward him and Orophin took it gingerly.

"It's Glorfindel. He wants to say hello." Orophin put the thing under his ear as he had seen Elrohir do and was utterly surprised to hear a voice coming through it. A voice from this inanimate thing!

"How are you, Orophin?" the voice asked.

"I am well, lord Glorfindel, and you?"

"Same as always, I expect," said the voice cheerfully. "The twins tell me you're staying with them for a time?"

"Yes, I am, though I do not know how long I will be here."

"That's fine. How about paying me a visit sometime? It's been several years since last I saw you, I believe."

"It has. That would be lovely, I think."

"Good! I'll be expecting you, then. Telephone me before you arrive...I suppose you can bring those two delinquents with you, as well, if they haven't got work to be doing."

Orophin wondered if he was perhaps a nuisance to have around, so new to everything modern. He decided to say nothing of it, and instead thanked Glorfindel and handed the telephone to Elrohir.

"Mmm-hmm," said Elrohir, rolling his eyes at Elladan and twisting the cord between his long fingers. "Mmm-hmm. Yes. No. I'm not sure, should I ask? Okay. See you. Take care, Glorfindel."

And then he hung the telephone back on the wall; Orophin assumed the conversation with Glorfindel had ended.

"Orophin, when do you want to go?" asked Elrohir, dropping unceremoniously onto the couch.

"I care not…whenever you want to, I suppose." The next words came out in a heavily accented rush: "Am I too much of a hindrance here?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged annoyed looks. "_No,_" said Elladan. "It's nice. Having you here, I mean. I'm not alone with this madman," he said, grinning and sticking an index finger into Elrohir's side.

Elrohir grabbed Elladan's finger and pushed it backward to the back of his hand. Elladan's mouth twisted and he jerked it away. "Ow!" he cried, scowling.

"You have both lost your minds," Orophin announced placidly

Elrohir nodded smugly. "A little. But if I'm crazy, Orophin, it's because I live with _him._"

Elladan rolled his eyes and mouthed something indistinguishable. "Anyway," he said pointedly, "no, you are in no way a bother to have around. Do you feel like you are?"

"You both have lives."

"Well, yes, but you're a part of our lives."

"Yes, but-"

"No 'buts'. We have all the time in the world! Tomorrow we'll go to the park or something…give you the grand tour."

"It'll be fun!" Elrohir interjected.

"New places-"

"New people and things-"

"New _smells-_"

"Disgusting, Elladan," Elrohir said, laughing. At Orophin's confused look, he explained, "Cities don't always smell nice. Cars smell rather bad, actually, and there are a lot of them."

"How odd," said Orophin, shaking his head. "I don't recall it being this way out here."

"Things change," said Elladan gently. "That's wrong, I suppose: Men change and _things_ stay the same. We stay the same, too, in a lot of ways, though one can't help but adapt a little."

They were on the couch, all three of them. Afternoon sun streamed in through the open window, and the curtains fluttered in the summer breeze. Children played outside, giggling and chasing each other barefoot through the grass. "People are _always_ changing, you've just got to give them a chance before you judge them."

It was warm, the air was heavy; Orophin breathed in the humidity, his mind telling them it would thunder soon. They were quiet for some time, listening and watching and waiting for the downpour.

(tbc)

Thanks for reading!


	5. On the River

_-Note-_ This chapter features Orophin and Elladan in equal parts; the next chapter will likely see some Glorfindel. 

I have also just learned that snow is forecasted for Sunday night. Argh…

_-Disclaimer-_ Please see Chapter 1.

On the River

Elladan's gaze slid sideways to the Elf on the bench next to him. Orophin's long, bright hair was tied back in a rubber band, he was wearing a pair of Elrohir's old jeans. He was squinting uncomfortably, a hand brought up above his eyes like a badly done salute.

"It's hot here," he said.

Elladan raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Whining?"

"What?"

"Complaining?"

"Well," Orophin scowled, "yes."

"Oh, stop. It's a beautiful day. It's a nice park, yes?"

"Oh yes," said Orophin, although Elladan knew his friend was unimpressed. It was crowded, the paths were paved and swarming with rollerbladers, cyclists, and small children. They sat on a sagging wooden bench at a fork in the trail, contemplating the day.

"I don't suppose you'd mind visiting Glorfindel soon?" asked Elladan, watching the passerby absently.

"I would like to see him. Will you be coming with me?"

"Elrohir or I will. Perhaps both of us. We haven't really discussed it, to be honest."

"Ah."

"I'd like to go somewhere, though, and visiting Glorfindel is as good an excuse as any. Do you know he lives in an apartment, all alone?"

"An apartment?"

Elladan thought for a moment, biting his lip. "You've seen those high-rise buildings, yes?"

"Yes."

"He lives in one of those. No garden, just a balcony."

"How odd," mused Orophin. "How ugly, to live inside all day."

"It's what we do," Elladan said defensively. "It's culture. It can also become very cold here."

"Yes, but there has always been a cold season. I do not understand the need to live one's life indoors."

To that, Elladan said nothing. An odd kind of silence followed, though neither seemed uncomfortable; the sun sank behind the oaks, the path cleared. They could hear the river beyond the trees. Elladan half-wished he was on the banks rather than the bench, so he rose and stretched, cat-like.

"I'll show you the river. It's not exactly pristine, but this is the city and all things are relative."

"Are they?"

"Probably."

The river was shallow and wide, with a beach of smooth, round stones. It rushed briskly by, around fallen trees and swirling about in tiny eddies. Orophin seemed pleased by the sight.

"Elladan," he said, "I know not why you have forsaken places like these for your houses and apartments."

Elladan shrugged.

Orophin smiled, and Elladan grinned in response. He stood still for a moment, then bent over and began shucking off his shoes. He tossed them over his back, where they rested at the twisting roots of an ancient-looking jack pine. Then, with a laugh and a wink, he raced across the bank and onto a rock in the water. Pausing to roll up his pants, he cried, "Come on, _mellon nin!_"

Orophin followed suit, over the stepping stones. Out in the river on the tiny rock-islands, he felt a curious security in his isolation, just watching the current go by. Here was something that would always be, until the end of Arda.

He jumped at the sound of a splash and looked up: Elladan had stomped into the water and was making his way toward him at a dangerously fast pace.

"Oh no, you do _not_!" cried Orophin, stepping backward onto another stone.

"Prepare to be wet!"

"No no no no _no!_"

"Yes!"

Orophin dashed across the water, his bare feet gripping hard. Elladan plodded along not far behind him, occasionally attempting to douse him.

When Orophin landed gracefully on the opposite back and stretched out on the warm stones, he found himself wishing Elrohir had come rather than go to work. Truly, here was a sight to cherish: Elladan Elrondion, hopelessly soaked and with his hands on his hips, standing shoeless and shin-high in water.

Orophin felt like a child again, oddly enough, and he felt himself enjoying it. With a heavily exaggerated sigh, he loosed his hair from its tail, rose, and stepped in. The stones were slick with algae, he gripped tightly to them with his toes.

"Elladan, you fool!" he shouted, feeling the river seeping into the fabric of his pants, "You've made me wet!" He realized how juvenile the words were as they left his mouth; he wanted to laugh at himself.

"_I've_ made you wet? Dear friend, you are mistaken!" came Elladan's slightly breathless voice. Orophin shoved him away, heard the dim scraping of feet on the river bottom, then a large splash. He felt the distinct lack of presence beside him, and looked: his friend sitting in the water, letting it run over his lap and elbows.

An odd silence followed.

"I am not as wet as you," said Orophin.

"No, indeed."

Orophin considered the idea of taking a step back, for the look in Elladan's eyes was far too mischievous for his liking. He thought better of it though, as he did not think he could be quick on his feet when the rocks were so slick.

"Do not-"

"Do not what?"

"Don't do what I see you are thinking about."

Silence. Orophin inched backward. A mallard called from calmer waters downstream. The sky was slowly turning crimson. They heard no chatting walkers, no playing children. In the end, no one else heard the shouting when Orophin was at last pulled in.

(tbc)

Thanks for reading!


	6. The River Ocean

_-Note-_ Sorry this has taken so long. I've been out of town and very busy this month- thanks for your patience! This story is now in the "alternative" category. I'm also thinking of a title change, as I'm not really fond of the current one... 

Just a side note- I'll do my best to update next month, but I'm going to have some eye surgery around the holidays (and my birthday…) and will probably not be able to see for a several days and will have poor sight for a while after. This means I might not get around to writing much. Thanks in advance for your patience:)

­_-Disclaimer-_ Please see chapter 1.

The River Ocean

They drove past the open, rolling pastures and through the forests. Between the bustling, over-grown towns, the land had not changed much. Not so long ago, it had hardly changed at all; this, Elladan remembered. He remembered how the early Men had sometimes come upon their forest, he remembered the empires and the falls, the births and deaths of great Men.

As he looked at Orophin in the passenger seat, Orophin caught his eye and offered a smile. Elladan returned it, and the silence persisted. For hours they went on; Elladan half-wished Orophin could drive, for his eyes were dulling themselves to the rhythmic appearances and disappearances of yellow lines.

Having left early in the morning, they arrived in the towering city in the late afternoon. The glass and steel buildings cast shadows over them, and Elladan amused himself with Orophin's awed stare.

The roadway led them past a long, crescent beach. The darkening sun shone off the water, the sunbathers were clearing off. Orophin's eyes followed the line of water hungrily,

"That's not the sea," Elladan said. His voice was sharper, tenser than he meant for it to be. "It's not, so don't look at it in such a way." The hungry eyes brought on an ache in the pit of Elladan's stomach. "Please."

Orophin nodded and closed them. "Sorry."

"No." And then, "We're here."

The eyes opened once more and beheld the megalith before them. "He lives in one of those…apartments?" asked Orophin tightly. Elladan laughed and the spell was broken.

"Yes. It's quite nice, I assure you. Lots of potted plants."

"Potted-?"

"Plants. Never mind. You'll see in a moment, won't you?" Elladan watched as Orophin's mouth worked to say something, anything, but it ended up shutting tightly. "It's time to get out, now. That man," he said, pointing to a figure waiting on the sidewalk in front of the glass doors, "will put my car away."

"Oh…"

They exited, Elladan handing over the keys and leading Orophin inside. The parlor was all shiny brass and stone; Elladan could see questions pass through Orophin's eyes.

"Here," he said, taking his friend's arm and deliberately softening his voice, "just follow me."

They stepped onto the elevator. Orophin looked on in mute bewilderment as the buttons were pushed and the doors slid shut. His knuckles grasped the railing and slowly turned white. Elladan felt a surge of something- pity? - and moved closer.

"Really, this is perfectly safe. Remember _flets_?"

"Yes, but…"

"Safe." The word corresponded with a high-pitched _ding_ and an electronic, female voice telling them they had arrived.

There was a short hallway, and then an oak door. Elladan knocked jauntily and pushed his finger hard against the bell.

(_l)_

The door swung open quickly, revealing a tall, blonde elf in a tunic and light-colored pants. One hand was reaching out to Orophin and Elladan, the other was twisted around the collar of a very excited looking dog.

"Hey, sorry about this one," came Glorfindel's half-exasperated voice.

"Alyaran, is it still?" asked Elladan, pushing his way in. Orophin, with a brief look back at the elevator (the doors had since closed), followed.

"Yeah, mad old dog. Can't bring himself to greet _me_ anymore when I come home."

"Apparently, Orophin and I are far more interesting."

Glorfindel smiled and shut the door, and Orophin was under the distinct impression that those clear eyes were taking in everything about him. Without warning, he was drawn into a crushing embrace.

"It's so good to see you, Orophin!" cried Glorfindel, releasing him. "How are you, _really_?"

"Very well, my lord, I-"

"None of that," he said. "Glorfindel, please."

"Very well, Glorfindel. The twins have been showing me around."

"So I hear. No terrible culture shock? You speak their language well."

"Oh, I'd say he was- and is- shocked," Elladan said brightly, walking around the room and inspecting it. "Do you ever move things around a bit here, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel shrugged.

"Oh," Elladan continued, pointing to a large, green plant at the corner of the window. "There's your potted plant, Orophin."

Orophin approached it, eyebrows raised. "It's a plant. In a pot. Why-? Who thought of-?"

Glorfindel laughed and gestured to a couch and an overstuffed chair set before the fireplace. They sat together; Orophin removed an account of the Fall of Númenor from his seat and placed it gently on the table in front of him.

A fire was started in the grate and the dog- Alyaran- was let loose to harass his guests as much as he pleased. He seemed to remember Elladan, but he spent most of his time with his head across Orophin's knees, licking his pants and drooling cheerfully.

Orophin resigned himself to the role of dog cushion and stared out the window. The sun setting in a blaze of roses and oranges, its reflection painted off-kilter and out-of-proportion on the glassy buildings. Past them, he saw the curve of the water.

He came to himself suddenly and realized he was being looked at by no less than three sets of eyes. Alyaran was punching his nose against his knee, asking to be petted; Elladan and Glorfindel sat on the overstuffed chair and the other side of the couch, respectively, and were fixing their gazes straight at him (alone, they were impressive; together, they were intimidating).

"Well," said Orophin, slightly annoyed but very…_loved_, "I'm not going anywhere quite yet."

(Tbc)

Thanks for reading!

On the title of this chapter- In Greek mythology, Ocean is the river that surrounds the Earth; he is a Titan.


	7. Smothering Dreams

_-Note-_ Special thanks to Indy for a second opinion on an idea. Hobbits give gifts on their birthdays, so here is mine (several days early). Unfortunately, it's rather dark and scary. Tea will be served afterward... 

And the "movie" is not a real one- I have made it up for the purpose of this chapter. Also remember that the time between updates might be somewhat longer this time, for reasons previously explained.

_-Disclaimer-_ See chapter 1.

If in some smothering dreams

They had something called spaghetti for dinner. Orophin liked it well enough (he suspected it was one of those dishes that was very difficult to get wrong), but he wondered why Elladan looked so self-satisfied throughout the meal; he appeared almost to be preening. Glorfindel must have seen the question coming, because he said, "A certain someone taught me to make this. Otherwise, we'd be eating dinner from a box."

"A boxed dinner?"

"Just you wait," said Elladan, smirking. "Boxed dinner, lunch, breakfast…"

"I'm very good with a microwave, thank you!" laughed Glorfindel. "It's a talent, really. Who needs an oven or a stove?"

"He has plenty of experience with microwaves."

"I could teach you something, young one."

"I somehow doubt it."

Glorfindel shook his head, stood, and cleared their plates. The dog followed him out, looking hopeful. From the kitchen there came a high-pitched buzz, then voices. The sounds ricocheted about Orophin's mind before they associated themselves with the television.

"What's new?" Elladan asked loudly, pushing off from the table and leaning back in his chair to see through the doorway.

"You can come in, you know. Spare me the yelling and all that."

"Fine. Orophin, care to see what's going on in Arda?"

Orophin shrugged and wondered if maybe he's rather not know. He went anyway, and sat between the two other Elves on a stool at the counter. Alyaran immediately placed his head in his lap.

As it turned out, not much of anything was going on in Arda. At least, not anything he could really understand. So while Elladan went off to a spare bedroom to unpack his things (there were enough bedrooms for them each to have one) and Glorfindel was humming loudly in the bath, Orophin changed channels and felt increasingly bored. He finally settled on something with pounding, suspenseful music.

Whatever the main character was doing, it seemed to require a lot of running. Perhaps too much of it. In the dark, with rain, in what seemed to be the city. Apparently, this character was being chased; Orophin was beginning to wonder when he would begin to tire when suddenly there was a dead end and the running ceased.

Orophin waited, listening to the footsteps draw near. Now there was a confrontation, and the words were quick and foul-sounding. He couldn't follow it well. The main character reached into his jacket for something, pulled out a black _thing_, and-

Orophin jumped; Alyaran backed away very quickly. The chaser had fallen to his knees, his face white and slicked with rain. It took an awfully long time for him to tumble to the asphalt, and when he did his eyes were blank and his hair mixed with watery blood.

He sat there, watching the television but not really _seeing_ anything, for a while. Then he blinked and shut it off.

"Sorry."

He turned around more jerkily than he intended to and saw that Glorfindel stood there, wearing soft pants and a tunic, with his hair wrapped up in a towel.

"You shouldn't have seen that."

"What was it?" asked Orophin.

"Just a movie. Entertainment."

"He died."

"I know. Men…things are different now. Battles aren't the same."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do we," said Glorfindel, shrugging. "Believe me."

"It is not real?"

"This wasn't real."

"Why…."

"You're asking the wrong Elf, you know. It is quite unexplainable."

Orophin sighed and stood, mindful not to step on Alyaran's tail. "I do not think I will be watching any more television."

"You don't have to."

"I have no need to watch killing for entertainment."

"Nor do I. Think, perhaps, of those who do."

_(l)_

His dreams were terrible. It had been a long time since he had had a nightmare. The wall at his back felt entirely real, the pavement was slippery under his bare feet. The black-robed figure hissed and-

He doubled over, warm blood on his hands, and cried out. The rain, the ground, how cold he felt… (_it isn't so bad, really, not so bad…spare him the trip by boat…)_

"Orophin."

_(it was too easy, this way, and not bad at all…he wouldn't even be seasick…)_

"Orophin, awake."

_(not bad--)_

With a gasp, he heaved himself up. Glorfindel's hand was on his shoulder, and he was indoors, in bed, awake.

"Oh!" he said quickly. "I'm sorry I woke you-"

"No, no, it's nothing. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I think…thank you."

"I'm sorry, Orophin, very sorry."

"No…I'm alright now."

Rain pounded at the tall windows beside the bed. His guest room was next to Glorfindel's. Now Glorfindel sat beside him, his hand still firm on Orophin's shoulder.

"I can stay, if you like."

"I'm fine, really."

There was a moment of quiet. Then, "Well, at least let me make you some tea."

"Tea would be lovely, I think. Thank you."

Glorfindel returned, bearing two steaming mugs. He set one in Orophin's hands and sipped quietly out of his own cup (it was a colorful thing, with painted paw prints and delightfully frivolous-looking dog toys- Orophin wondered if Glorfindel had bought it himself). They drank tea and watched the sun rise.

(Tbc)

Thanks for reading!

On the title of this chapter: from the poem _Dulce et Decorum Est_ by Wilfred Owen, 1918.


	8. Intermezzo

Disclaimer: please see chapter 1. 

Intermezzo

The day dawned with a clear sharpness; from the balcony of Glorfindel's apartment, Orophin felt the first breath of autumn. He heard, far below, the early morning traffic. Somewhere behind him, Elladan was humming in the shower and the tea kettle was beginning to shriek an ear-bending harmony.

Glorfindel had already gone, with many promises to return by lunchtime. Orophin had felt the other's eyes on him all morning and knew that he had been carefully examined. But that wariness in Glorfindel's voice seemed to have contented itself, for when the telephone rang later with one last assurance of a quick return, he sounded as merry as he had ever been.

The kettle had launched into an all-out scream, so Orophin thought he ought to attend to it. Pouring two mugs, he added extra sugar to his own and set the other on Elladan's bedside table. Clutching his tea in both hands, he spent a pleasant morning exploring the place; brushing the dust off the old books, sweeping patches of dog hair from the rugs, opening the windows. He left Glorfindel's room alone, but found himself somehow standing before the closed door beside it. Elladan was still humming in the shower (by now, a different tune) and the dog rolled over, asleep. Like a small child, he touched the handle and quickly stepped back, biting his lip. And like a child, he went in.

The curtains were drawn, a fine layer of dust stood on the floor. He realized quickly, guiltily, that this was Glorfindel's private study. The walls were covered in shelves and old paintings- paintings so old their subjects were all but forgotten. And the books, as he squinted at their crumbling spines, were now naught but fantasy.

He was not supposed to be here. There were similar books outside, he knew, in the sitting room; but here, he was trespassing. He sidled past two tattered chairs and a small coffee table, unwilling to disturb them.

The desk was a messy shuffle of papers and tomes; on further inspection, Orophin saw that at least one was being meticulously recopied. In new frames were sketches of people he had known long ago and places that had fallen to dust. The one on the corner, perilously close to the edge, was not a sketch- could not have been. The paper was glossy and smooth; a photograph, he supposed.

He was rather astonished to find that it was a photograph of a woman.

He saw the corner of another photograph marking the page in a book; he slid it out gently. It was the same, smiling woman, this time with a small, wavy-haired child on her shoulders.

Later he blamed his deafness on his surprise- for he did not hear the apartment door open and close, nor did he hear the footsteps at the threshold behind him.

Glorfindel cleared his throat. Loudly. Orophin did hear that.

"Am I interrupting-?"

"I apologize, my lord, I was…"

"No, no," said Glorfindel, stepping over the threshold in his dark suit and tie. "You needn't. What is a closed door, but an invitation to be opened?"

"It was rude of me, Glorfindel, and I do apologize."

"As I have said," Glorfindel replied with dainty diplomacy, "you needn't. Thank you for cleaning the dog hair, by the way."

Orophin knew that had he been any younger, he would have blushed. Instead, he looked fixedly at a point beyond Glorfindel's shoulder; he felt suddenly very small.

"Do sit down," said Glorfindel, his voice placid. "I am not scolding you, no," he added as he eased gracefully into a chair.

"How was your work?" Orophin finally asked, struggling not to sound intimidated.

"Oh, fine," replied Glorfindel with a wave of his hand. "I'm thinking a little of giving up the business and going someplace else."

"Why? You started it, did you not?"

"Well, yes, under a different name. But I grow tired of it, and I think my colleagues may be growing tired of me. They are not young forever, you know, and I have never in all my years had grey hair or arthritic knees. I sense, sometimes, a little resentment for my youthfulness. And," he pursed his lips, "the idea of a real house is beginning to please me."

"I must admit I see no advantage of…this," said Orophin. "Apartments, you call them? Where are the trees?"

"That," said Glorfindel with a grin, "is precisely what I was thinking."

They fell into a peaceful silence after that: Glorfindel pressed lazily into the back of his chair, Orophin leaning against the arm of his own.

"Even in the woods with the others, you must be lonely," said Glorfindel finally. "I have been there. Do you not wish for more life? It is so often _leaving_ and _fading_; I think sometimes living is neglected."

"This is true, I think. Be careful, though: you are not less lonely here though, just differently so." Caught in this situation, Orophin concluded that it was best to simply speak the truth. He swallowed his anxiety and ignored the cold feeling inside his ribcage.

Glorfindel chuckled. "At least you're honest!"

"Who was she, if you don't mind?"

"_Is_, not was."

"Ah." Orophin cleared his throat awkwardly. "I am sorry...am I the only-"

"Nay, Elrohir is aware, but he speaks naught of it to me; it was several years ago, understand. It hardly matters now. She made a different life." He heaved a great breath, and Orophin felt the unspoken words on Glorfindel's tongue. "After all," Glorfindel continued, "she wouldn't have believed me, anyway."

"What wouldn't she have believed?" Elladan was leaning against the doorframe, a towel over his shoulders and a brush in his hand.

"I was worried you had drowned yourself," Orophin said, looking quickly away from Glorfindel and raising an eyebrow.

"But your shower is so _nice_," Elladan said plaintively. "And clean, and-"

"Maybe you ought to clean yours out, then?" asked Glorfindel.

"Thank you, I _have._ It's just not the _same_."

Glorfindel laughed, Orophin grinned and sat back in his chair.

"What are you doing in here? I've never seen this room open, Glorfindel."

"It is a study, of sorts, and you are welcome to use it," said Glorfindel, still smiling. Orophin knew Elladan's inquiry had been dismissed. "But I am not going back to work, so the day is ours."

(Tbc)

Thanks for reading!


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